A Stranger
by blacktag189
Summary: He looked around the carnage of another room destroyed by his lack of control and took a long look at his fractured self in the mirror. A stranger. He was a stranger even to himself now. **Must have completed Ghost of You for this little one-shot to make any sense! Enjoy!**
1. Tactical Three

**A Stranger**

~Tactical Three~

_**A/N:**_ You _MUST_ have read Ghost of You for any of this to make sense. Enjoy!

* * *

_So if you loved me,_

_Why'd you let me go?_

_-Violet Hill by Coldplay_

As the polyjuice potion took effect he sat down on the bed watching his short, nail bitten fingers lengthen and marveled again at how quickly it had come to this. He was on track to be the youngest tactical leader in Auror history with this current case and was now booted back down to tactical three – where Auror's go to retire. Finesse had calmly told him it was for his own good. He had become "distracted and a danger to himself and those around him", but they were so desperately short it was better to bump him to three than to lose him altogether.

No matter how awful he felt it wasn't lost on Harry that even on his worst days he was still better than most of the Auror's in the field at the moment. He looked at his hands again the faint 'I must not tell lies' scar evaporating as he shifted into this new person. It was meant to be a demotion, a punishment for his sloppy loose cannon behavior but it was such a big relief he almost collapsed with gratitude when Finesse handed it down.

The rapid tapping of an owl at his window shook him from his contemplation and he stood to let the poor thing in. Amidst a flurry of snow and sleet the owl shook off the cold and held out her leg – another letter from Hermione. Harry sighed and paid the bird throwing the letter to the bed and sitting back down amidst the mess. His room was still a disaster from the last letter Hermione had sent over. They had been increasingly hostile toward his 'seemingly purposeful inability to pick up a pen to paper'.

He was so angry at that one he'd shattered another lamp and unwillingly caused a pillow to explode. The room was covered in a mess of clothes, candy wrappers, glass, and feathers, and, of course, letters. How Hermione could have so much time he would never understand. But, each letter from the night of Ginny's accident onward always contained three things: she still loved him; he needed to write to her; he was being an idiot.

He stretched out on the bed feeling his torso lengthen and contemplated for the thousandth time what he could possibly write back to either of them. He couldn't even think of _her_ name without being filled with a swirling mess of emotions. Betrayal over what had happened between them. An all-consuming regret that it had caused a relapse for her. Hurt that Mrs. Weasley had told him he needed to stay away this time – that maybe it was better for both of them. Anger at Ron for being so hot-headed and single minded; but most of all he felt so desperately lonely. Ron hated him, Mrs. Weasley had made it clear some space was needed between him and possibly all the Weasley's, and Hermione was stuck in an impossible situation between the three of them. He hadn't even been able to tell Collette what had happened because thinking about it made his blood start to boil all over again. He was still constantly surrounded by people desperate to get on his good side and yet he had never felt more alone. Everyone close to him was out of reach.

With the polyjuice transformation complete he continued to lie on the bed waiting for his babysitter to come escort him to his sentry duty for the day. Apparently all it took for you to be humiliatingly demoted was to lose three tails, fall asleep during a stakeout, and accost a possible Muggle suspect in a pub. He put his unfamiliar hands over his unfamiliar face and let out a long groan. This was not how he wanted his Auror career to start out.

The door fired open and Collette leveled her livid eyes on him, "Tactical three?!"

"Collette," he started, then balked at the sound of his voice – high and whiny sounding. He wondered what kind of dodgy bloke he was forced to be for a moment before remembering the furious French woman steaming before him.

"Tell me." She demanded. "Zis must be zee reason you 'ave been demoted."

"I'm sorry." He automatically responded.

"Tell me what happened." She flicked her wand and the door slammed and popped with the sealing charm. "I am done playing zees games!"

"I can't." He looked away from her. "You have to stop asking me to tell you."

She had not let up for what felt like weeks. At first he was far too incensed to answer but as the hours had drug on he realized he was actually terrified to answer. If he was just angry everything still felt like it was in limbo, like he could apperate back to his room and she would still be standing there waiting for him. But then the days started to drag on with absolutely nothing from her and his limbo felt more like exile. Maybe he had waited too long and now he had lost his chance. It wasn't until he felt like he'd lost his chance that he realized why he was so terrified in the first place – despite everything, especially his lingering anger, he was still desperately in love with her.

"You will 'Arry Potter or I will extract it from you." She warned.

"You know I'm trained in Occlumency, right?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, the gesture feeling completely foreign on his new face.

"Oh I don't need that," she ominously warned, her wand sending off a shower of red sparks at the floor. His chest started to burn with the truth that longed to be set free. The truth that he still loved her, still wanted her, still needed her even though everything had gone so wrong. And the even harder truth that maybe Mrs. Weasley had been right – that maybe they were better off alone.

"There was a fight. Lots of yelling and glass." He exhaled.

"Glass?" Collette's eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

"I lost control, things started exploding." Harry mumbled and gestured to the ruined room.

"And then," Collette prompted, ignoring the mess.

"I left." He simply answered and looked her square in the face.

"But there is more isn't there? You've fought with Ginny before." Collette offered and he physically winced at the mention of her name. The window rattled and Collette crossed her arms over her chest giving him a defiant look.

"Don't make me do this." Harry warned.

"What did you do, 'Arry?" Collette's face dropped into shock and he stood from the bed.

"I accused her of so many things Collette. She'll never forgive me."

"You seem to somehow think she's innocent of her crimes. What changed your mind?" Her foot started tapping a fast rhythm against the worn carpet.

"She tried to…she took sleeping draughts…and they said that all she kept saying was my name before I got there."

"Oh my," Collette breathed, a hand flying to her cheek.

"And now I've been asked to stay away from her." Harry kicked a pile of clothes out his way as he attempted to pace the room

"By whom?" Collette's voice cut through his misery.

"Her mum, and her brother." He kicked his empty bag into the corner and let out a huff of frustration.

"Ron?" Collette started her tapping foot again as she contemplated.

Harry just nodded. He couldn't even bare to tell her about the infirmary and the yellow blanket. It was enough that he already regretted accusing her and thinking she was toying with him. She had obviously been distraught enough about it all to feel the need to almost harm herself. He let out a long, low groan and turned his back to Collette facing the window and the building storm outside.

"You must go to her. You must right this." Collette's voice seemed far away. He just nodded but knew there was nothing he could do. Even though everything within him knew he needed to find her, grab her, kiss and hold her until she loved him again - it was impossible. She was trapped at Hogwarts. He didn't ever want to see the inside of his flat again. And despite the building, burning need he had to right the situation he could never betray Mrs. Weasley like that.

"You must." Collette grabbed his shoulder and forced him to look at her.

"And betray the only family I've ever known?" Harry snapped.

"Oh no…no my dear 'Arry – there are no rules when there is love involved." Collette squeezed his shoulder to accentuate the point.

"Easy for you to say." He grumbled and shook off her arm before attempting to leave.

"You know it's the truth." Collette retorted.

"What am I supposed to do Collette?" He turned toward her, "sneak into Hogwarts and find her? Kidnap her until she answers all my questions?"

"And beg. Lots of begging." Collette added with a nod.

"I will not beg." He growled. "There was fault on both sides. She betrayed me on so many different levels I'm still trying to figure it out."

"So it was Ginny that leaked the medical proxy news to zee media?" Collette raised an eyebrow.

"No." Harry pressed his lips tight across his face.

"Then she must 'ave betrayed you at zee hospital when you were bleeding all over your cot and withering in agony." Collette goaded, putting a hand on her hip.

"Stop." He warned, balling his fists.

"Or perhaps her betrayal of you came when she dropped everything she 'ad been working on at school and with her Quidditch to come to your aid." She took a purposeful step toward him, her boot crunching a piece of lamp.

"I'm warning you," he felt his blood start to heat.

"No – I know. How stupid of me. It must be zee confidentiality she's been keeping for you all term long – she 'as broken that somehow to zee press 'asn't she? I really thought zat story about you and zee Veela was pure speculation but…" Collette seethed and the glass of water on the bedside tables shook only for a moment before shattering into a wide spray of glass and droplets.

"How could she possibly still be in love with me after what happened between us?! I told her she was a stranger!" He yelled at her. Collette covered the space between them quickly and stopped inches in front of him to harshly whisper,

"Zat must be zee reason she was crying out _your_ name even in her drug induced sleep." She gave him a hard look and then took a step back, "zey warned me about your temper. I wasn't prepared for your stupidity." With a turn on her heel she crunched out of the room.

Harry sank back down onto the bed and put his head in his hands willing the agony to stop washing over him in rippling, painful waves, but there was no release. He clawed at his hair, pulling at the unfamiliar curly roots and felt even more desperate. He couldn't even suffer through this punishment as himself. Everything started to build, ripple, crescendo in his skull like some awful orchestra of memory that he couldn't stop, deafening him to everything but his wildly beating heart in his chest until there was a loud SNAP. For a moment he thought it was his sanity, finally brought to its' breaking point and he opened his eyes and looked around to see what this new reality would bring but all that greeted him was a broken mirror and some other polyjuiced Auror standing dumbfounded in the doorway.

"Potter?"

"What?" His voice cracked as he barked it out.

"Time to go." The Auror quietly answered and quickly turned and left. He looked around the carnage of another room destroyed by his lack of control and took a long look at his fractured self in the mirror. A stranger. He was a stranger even to himself now. That was when his eyes fell on the letter still lying innocently on his hotel comforter. This letter – it was small, unlike the usual novels she forced the school birds to cart across England for her. Without even thinking about it he took the few steps over the crunching lamp pieces and grabbed the letter opening it with such force it fluttered out of the envelope and onto his unmade bed. It settled and he let his eyes look over the four sentences before they hit him square in the chest:

_Harry – I'm making Ginny go with me to Muggle London today. I know you're there, and you better show up. She still loves you and I will never forgive you if you end it like this. 28117 Tenda, London – Spectacular Gowns._

_-Hermione_

He looked at his stranger self in the fractured mirror and then nodded. Hermione was right, one way or the other he needed to end this today. That way he and Ginny could both move on with their lives. If he was about to go on probation anyway for being such a loose cannon then he was going out with a bang. He wasn't doing his polyjuiced perimeter checking today – he was going to this Muggle dress store. He was going to talk to Ginny. He was going to break up with her. He was not going to be swayed by her tears, he was not going to allow anything Hermione was certainly going to berate into him sway his decision. He wasn't right for her, he kept hurting her, and because she was hurting it was destroying him. Mrs. Weasley was right – the only way to fix it all was to end it. If he loved her as much as he thought he did it was the right decision. He'd leave Ginny alone for the rest of her life…after today.


	2. The Dress Shop

**A Stranger**

~The Dress Shop~

* * *

_I took my love down to Violet Hill,_

_There we sat in the snow._

_All that time she was silent still,_

_So if you love me, won't you let me know?_

_-Violet Hill by Coldplay_

Harry felt fuzzy. It was a vast improvement from the stunningly painful emptiness he'd been feeling. It was a welcomed change from the psychedelic reality his sleep deprivation had given him. But as he stood in the tiny alley between the dress store and the paper supply store fuzzy was the last thing he wanted. He needed brutally sharp clarity for what he was about to do. He needed to be able to look her in the eyes and tell her that it was over, that she should move on, and that he was sorry for all the harm he'd caused her. Then he'd hug Hermione and dissaperate on the spot. He was still trying to nail down where he would go when his body shook with another wave of shivers. It was freezing in the alley. The storm was kicking up and making the alley a terrible wind tunnel of snow and bone chilling cold. He would have used a warming charm all over himself but that was what had made him feel fuzzy in the first place. He had been standing in the alley shadows for almost two hours waiting for the girls to show up, and the anxiety of it was gnawing away at his empty stomach so much he was starting to feel a bit green about the gills.

That's when he saw the flash of red whipping up into the gray morning sky. Just as suddenly as the fire of her hair assaulted him Hermione's voice rose over the street traffic,

"My Mum researched this a little for us. I wanted to have the biggest selection but at a smaller store so we weren't spotted. This is the perfect fit."

Harry moved slowly out from the alley and looked around the corner at the two of them looking at the display in front of the store. Hermione dropped her mitten covered hand and he had a clear shot of Ginny. His heart dropped into his feet and he froze. She looked terrible, huge bags under her eyes, her hair a wild mess all over her head, her shoulders slumped and rounded against the cold, and the hollow look to her cheeks led him to believe she'd lost all her weight again. Ginny shrugged and followed Hermione into the store and that's when he noticed what she was actually wearing – a baggy black jacket; His baggy black jacket.

The girls disappeared into the store and he skulked back into the alley watching panicked clouds of his breath escape up into the sky at an alarming rate. If he didn't know any better he thought he might be hyperventilating. The wind ripped through the alley again pelting him with snow and sleet and he shook himself out of it. The fuzzing feeling was gone replaced by blood warming panic. He wasn't ready for Ginny to look ill; he wasn't ready for her to be wearing his jacket, the jacket he was very conscious of that she had stolen from him. He had been well aware that she had nicked it from him, but it made him so happy to know she could be wearing it that he didn't mind. In fact he hadn't even bought another jacket because he wanted to steal it back and let the smell of her perfume wrap around him when he'd eventually have to leave again. But now she had it, and was wearing it, and he didn't know what that meant.

A few people walked by him, their curious eyes looking him up and down as he stayed stuck to the wall trying to fight his panic. He pushed himself off the wall and walked in the opposite direction for a few shops before turning around and walking back toward the dress shop. He glanced through the window and could barely see anything, let alone if the girls had come back out again. His hand seized on the doorknob before he knew what he was doing and he walked into the store. The clerk looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Hermione's voice rose up in the back,

"Do you think Ron would mind being covered in glitter all night?"

"Of course he would. But he wouldn't say anything." Ginny answered and Harry grabbed the nearest display rack to steady himself.

"Can I help you?" The clerk moved to stand and he shook his head and quickly exited back out the door and fumbled over himself into the alleyway.

He couldn't do it.

Hearing her flat and distracted voice, knowing that she was just a few steps away from him had caused his heart to swell with such hope that it nearly knocked him over. He ran his unfamiliar long fingers through his frustratingly curly hair and leaned against the wall again. He had to come up with a plan. He couldn't break up with her. He couldn't talk to her. Hermione had been telling him through her increasingly desperate letters that Ginny was still in love with him, but after what had happened between them he still doubted it. How could she possibly love him after what he said to her, after how he treated her? After he had abandoned her in her time of need? It didn't matter that he had been ordered away – something like that never stopped him before. But the doubt that he had about her love was what had made him stay back, leave his life for dead, drive him to strangle a suspect in a Muggle bar because he was losing his mind. He couldn't bear the thought of losing everything if he was just being stubborn.

She was wearing the jacket. That meant something. He knew it did. A flash of desperate inspiration washed over him and he shoved his hands into all his pockets looking for some parchment. The envelope for Hermione's letter brushed against his fingers and he tore off a section of it, turned his back to the street, conjured a quill out of a discarded flyer and scratched down:

_I've been looking for that jacket, Ginny._

If he handed it to her and she ripped it up or threw the jacket at him he could walk away free of any kind of obligation to her. But the building hope in his chest pushed that thought deep down in his brain. The bell for the shop rang out into the street and a gust of wind rattled ice down from all the trees. The sound of flapping plastic hit him next and then Ginny's beautiful voice growled out,

"Please tell me we're getting out of here."

Harry laughed to himself, fumbled with the paper in his hands, and waited. Hermione was next,

"Oh, I thought we'd get lunch."

"You're right, let's get some lunch." Ginny replied but Harry felt like he could almost feel her sigh about the whole situation.

"I think there's a sandwich shop up the street from here. Maybe we should just start walking and we'll come across something." Hermione offered her voice tight with worry. Harry felt a flash of panic cross his chest – what if they went the wrong way? What if they didn't pass the alley? He'd have to catch them, he'd have to follow them and catch them.

"Sure, you know more than me." Ginny voiced and he heard her zip up the jacket a little before the flapping plastic and moving footsteps hit him next. They were moving toward him, they were moving toward the alley. This was his chance, his one chance to try to fix all this. His fists clenched in preparation, he took a steadying breath, and moved away from the wall. He took a few measured steps and targeted his sight onto the only thing that mattered in the world to him.

"Excuse me," his borrowed voice called out and he froze with panic for a moment. All this preparation for his fateful meeting with Ginny and he was stuck in some dodgy bloke's body. She turned to look at him, cementing him to the ground with her judging brown eyes. Her hair blew around her shoulders, looking even more amazing against the black of his jacket. He felt Hermione's worried gaze fall over him and forced his hands out, "do you know where this is?"

They locked eyes for a moment and he was sure she had seen through the polyjuice. But then she shifted the dress in her arms and the moment was gone. Hermione swooped toward them about to protect Ginny with an interjection of,

"We're not…"

Ginny grabbed the paper out of his hands and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. She was still Ginny; still the impulsive, brave, fearless Ginny that he had fallen in love with.

"Like she was saying we're not from…" Ginny started as she looked down at the paper and Harry held his breath. Her voice choked off, her body tensed, her head stayed bowed looking at the paper, and the wind blew through the alley mixing the air with the smell of her shampoo. The moment of hesitation was enough for Hermione, she moved almost between them, her hands going toward Ginny as she said,

"We should be going, sorry we couldn't help."

But he ignored Hermione, he ignored the street traffic, he ignored how much he wanted to wrap her hair around his fingers and pull her to him – he waited. Ginny looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, and her face a mix between shock and utter despair. His fingers twitched at his side needing to touch her when she took a shaky breath and exhaled the three words that would haunt him for years after,

"I'm so sorry."

The tears broke down her face and he couldn't hold back any longer. She raised a mitten covered hand to wipe them away and he shook his head, his body thrumming with the excitement of finally being allowed to touch her again and raised his foreign fingers to her face and wiped them away. Her cheek was warm and soft against his skin, the tears instantly turned cold against his fingers, and then they started trembling; needing more. He took a step back to stop himself and she moved toward him. It was all he needed, she hadn't run away, she hadn't thrown the jacket at him, she was moving toward him, and she was just as distraught as he was. He was about to pull her into a crushing hug when Hermione stepped between them letting out a shocked exclamation before clamping down onto Ginny's arm and yanking her back,

"Who do you think you are touching my friend like that?"

Ginny didn't even try to shake Hermione free; she just continued to stare at him with a look that he could only figure was bewilderment. He took a few dry swallows, shaking in the alley not knowing what to do. His plans had not gotten this far; his plans hadn't exactly included him not looking like himself.

"A glamour?" Ginny asked; her eyes still bright with unshed tears.

"Polyjuice." He forced himself to answer and he watched Hermione's hand go slack on Ginny's arm as she quickly pieced it all together. With some generally shocked mumbling Hermione moved off down the street and left them almost completely alone. He drank her in, tears in all, snow swirling around their feet and waited. He had no idea what to say and she took a step toward him, holding up the parchment and asked,

"Do you want it back?"

The growing hope that was squeezing his heart suddenly slackened and he grimaced, but he knew it looked wrong on this borrowed face. She was supposed to want to keep it. He took the note from her fingers and tucked it back into the jacket so both could be lost to him forever,

"Looks better on you." He had to escape now. He looked at his watch for anything to break up the panic that was filling his limbs. "I don't have a lot of time," he lied.

"I'm so sorry Ha…" she started to say and he fought the urge to slap his hand over her mouth. He couldn't stand to hear her say his name. The way it bloomed from her lips was unlike any other way he'd ever heard someone say his name and it would kill him on the spot to have her say it now. She fumbled and quietly finished, "I'm sorry."

There was only one thing left to ask her now. The desperate part of him that wanted to tell her how long he'd flagellated himself in hope of being absolved at her bedside broke through all the panic of his thoughts and he managed,

"Did you get the blanket?"

"Yes. Thank you. You didn't have to do all that." She whispered back and he held his breath hoping it would stem the painful exhale he wanted to take. This was going south so fast for him his head was starting to spin. Thanking him? Isn't that what people did in civilized, polite exchanges? Like acquaintances. Like strangers. He wanted to think she wasn't a stranger that all that had imploded between them really hadn't made them strangers. Half of what he'd said to her was out of pure mind numbing anger over what she'd said to Neville and done with Neville. He didn't honestly think she was a stranger to him, not after he'd had a night to think about it. But it was too late when he'd come to that realization and now she was thanking him like she'd just met him.

She moved toward him again and he instinctively took a step back, needing to put space between his slowly boiling emotions and their polite exchange.

"Sorry, but you shouldn't get any closer." He pleaded, the tone sounding wrong coming out of his mouth. He checked his watch again, a nervous tick that he'd picked up in the field. He never checked the time, but it made him feel like he had something to do when he was panicky. The wind whipped around them and he took a final look at her, their eyes meeting for a long moment, the fire red of her hair catching little white specks of snow like a glowing halo and his heart shattered in his chest.

He thrust out his hand for a civilized parting and watched her face morph between so many emotions so quickly he almost understood them all: desperation into confusion into realization and finally into defeat. He had no idea why she felt defeated and the strange reaction itched at the back of his mind. Her trembling mitten enclosed hand wrapped around his frozen one and an instant jolt of electricity shot through him. It traveled through every limb shocking him so sharply that he instinctively grabbed her hand harder and pulled her to him. Even as they were breaking apart he still felt a very deep seeded need to protect her from everything, to wrap his arms around her and shield her, to feel her heartbeat thumping wildly against him and know that she was alive, she was safe, and she was his.

A swelling of emotion threatened to break through and he told her the one truth he had tried to mentally will into her fitful sleeping form on the Hogwarts infirmary cots,

"I did all that for a reason, Ginny."

'I can't stop loving you, even if you don't love me anymore.' His mind desperately finished the thought and he was ready to pull away when her hand clamped down onto his own with such a force it shocked him into staying.

"What are you saying?" She demanded. Harry felt himself baulk at her reaction. He looked deep into her eyes trying to will the truth from her thoughts when his watch started buzzing against his skin. It could only mean one thing - another Auror was closing in. His hand went slack with panic; he was out of time. They'd sent someone to find him, he was on probation most certainly now. His watch buzzed hard for another second and then stopped as a boy walked past the opening of the alley raising an eyebrow at him. The Auror polyjuiced to look like a teenage boy inclined his head toward Ginny and Harry panicked. He had two options; grab Ginny an apparate far away from here most likely never to return. That single act would piss off the entire Weasley family and mean he abandoned his job in the middle of a case. But he'd have Ginny. Or he could go with the Auror, accept his probation, and then break into Hogwarts and find Ginny. Either way there was no way he wasn't going to finish this conversation with her. His watch buzzed again, another Auror coming for him, and he made his choice,

"Oi, Richard. Wait up a minute."

Ginny turned to see whom he was speaking to and he took a final look at her, squeezing her hand with a promise. A promise that he would find her again, that he would right everything; that they could have a second chance, and then he let go. But not before trying to will the promise into her brain with his parting words, "Thanks anyway; maybe another time, eh?"

"Sorry I couldn't help." Ginny answered, her voice sounding constricted with emotions and Harry debated stopping, sticking with the first option, when his watch buzzed again and he met up with the Auror at the opening of the sidewalk. He couldn't look back, if he looked back he'd go back, and now that he had decided to stick with the second plan the faster he was given his probation the better. The Auror at least waited until they had rounded the corner out of earshot and met up with the second Auror to speak,

"Here I was thinking I'd have to stun someone. We all thought you'd been compromised, Potter."

"Then you obviously don't know me at all." Harry grumbled and the two Auror's laughed.

"We'll miss you on probation. You are quite the entertainer." The second Auror slapped him hard on the back and they turned into an alleyway and apparated back to the motel.

* * *

A/N: A very special thank you going out to my two lovely editors - Taich-Doragon Tentei and splee97(tumblr-dracosplushrump) who did a fabulous and amazingly quick job on the edit. It was with their gentle prodding that I finally sat down and finished up this piece. I've been sitting on it since the end of Ghost of You. Hope you all enjoyed it! Feel free to leave a review, I love feedback!


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